


Some Secrets Can’t be Pinned

by Honeybee1984



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Mild S&M, Office Blow Jobs, Office Sex, Punishment, Racism, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeybee1984/pseuds/Honeybee1984
Summary: Zac discovers r/posthanson, and realizes he's potentially ruined his own life and the band's reputation.  Taylor tries to comfort him... and bring him to heel.
Relationships: Taylor Hanson/Zac Hanson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	Some Secrets Can’t be Pinned

**Author's Note:**

> Long time Zaylor reader, first time writing. Needed to create this fly-on-the-wall, one-shot, borderline crackfic imagining of what could be going on behind 3CG's doors right now... for catharsis. Un-beta’d; I’m willing to die on this hill. ;)

He came crashing through the door, fuming, boots stomping heavily through 3CG, brandishing his phone. Ike could practically see the steam shooting out of his ears, rugged features set in a scowl.

“I’m done, guys. I’m fucking DONE.”

Isaac swiveled away from the board; Taylor just rolled his eyes from his seat at the piano.

“Fuck, Zac, you wrecked a good take. What is it??”

Zac practically threw his phone at Ike. “THIS. Jesus skateboarding Christ, I’m done.”

Ike fumbled for the phone and started scrolling through what looked like a Reddit thread. “What is ‘posthanson’ supposed to mean? …Oh. I see. Shit.”

Taylor had made his way out of the booth and was reading over Ike’s shoulder. “What? I mean, that’s your personal Pinterest board… Why the screenshots?”

Ike winced. “Dude… I mean, you can make boards private. This… doesn’t look good in today’s, ah, ‘climate’. Trayvon Martin stuff next to a board for June-bug… I mean, it’s not ILLEGAL, but it’s not good optics.”

Zac sunk to the couch and buried his head in his hands. “Guys. They could come after me. After us. It’s not like we live in bunkers--“

“--much to your chagrin, apparently…” Ike interrupted, eyes widening as he continued to scroll.

“…not helpful right now, Ike. I mean, like, they could find my home addresses and harass Kate and the kids. Protest at the studio. _Financially_ ruin us.”

Taylor snorted. “Please, this is a fringe group. Nobody will take it that far. And it’s not like your description says, ‘Hi, this is Zachary Walker Hanson’s personal Pinterest page, I was born October 22, 1985, here’s my Social Security Number and address, turns out I’m a raging white supremacist.’ They don’t KNOW it’s you. We’ll just ignore it and it’ll blow over. Shit like this always does.”

Zac just looked at Taylor. Stared deep into his crystal blue eyes, his brown ones looking like bottomless pits of despair. 

And waited.

When Ike let out a strangled sort of grunt, Tay tore his gaze from Zac’s and looked at the phone. Read the screencap. Felt his jaw hit the floor. “Zac… WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!?” 

“Basically admitted it’s my board. In a public Instagram comment.” Zac moaned miserably, his face hidden behind his palms again.

Isaac shot to his feet, fury clouding his face. He shoved Zac’s phone in Tay’s hand, strode over to grab his own phone off the charger, and made a beeline for the door. He barely called over his shoulder, “I’ve gotta go. Now.” before he disappeared.

Taylor felt frozen in place. He managed to make out a weak, “How…”

“It was late. I was high. Guess I thought I could explain myself and make this go away. Apparently _fucking_ not.” Zac grumbled.

Taylor just kept gawking at Zac. A million thoughts and feelings coursed through his body. Pulsed in his temples. Then they settled on a focal point—an inexplicable feeling of…

Relief. Tinged with anger, frustration and worry, no doubt, but overall relief.

Tay took a breath and dropped Zac’s phone on his brother’s lap as he walked to the door to the studio. Shut it behind Ike. Locked it. Grabbed his own phone to shoot off a couple of quick texts to Bec and Nat.

_Bec, the shit’s hit the fan. Ask Ike when he storms by. Initiate damage control. I’m dealing with Z; give us some space, K?_

_Babe, you and the kids should take a break from IG today. Do a social media detox day or something. I’m with Zac. Might get home late. Sorry._

Taylor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and put his phone on Do Not Disturb. This was going to get interesting.

“Zac. Dude. Look at me.”

Zac’s eyes peeked out from behind his fingers, watching Taylor as the latter folded himself onto the couch next to him. They widened for a second in surprise as Taylor enveloped him into a fierce, firm hug. Then they closed, wrapping his arms around his brother. Sinking into the feeling of his strength and support, Zac felt his eyes dampening.

Then there were… other feelings.

They pulled apart after a moment, but not too far. Taylor shifted his hand to wipe the barely-formed tears from Zac’s eyes.

“You scared me when you came barreling in here. It could be worse, Zac. You KNOW it could be so much worse.”

Zac snorted. “Yeah, fuck, luckily I’m not stupid enough to have a Pinterest board named, ‘Inventive Incestual Impulses’.”

Taylor chuckled darkly, “Or ‘Boning My Big Brother’.”

Zac felt a laugh bubbling up, “Or ‘Titillating Tips for Topping Taylor’. Maybe right next to a nice board of Instant Pot recipe pins. Cause, y’know, you just put stuff in and it finishes soooo _quick_.”

Taylor groaned, pushing Zac away in mock anger. “Fuck, you won’t let that one go, will you? Last time I ever bottom for you, I swear to god…”

Zac looked up coquettishly, batting his eyes. “Oh please. You fucking loved it. Obviously.” 

Taylor’s look of amusement faded to one of concern. As quickly as it arose, the frivolity fizzled. Zac leaned away from his brother, picking up his phone again and scrolling through Reddit some more.

“I just… fuck. All of this is getting blown out of proportion. I should be able to think and feel and post whatever I want… where are MY freedoms in all this?”

Taylor couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s the definition of White Privilege. Nice one.”

Zac’s eyes started welling up again, and despite his frustration, it broke Taylor’s heart. He could see the pain Zac was in, and it just smashed him into proverbial little tiny pieces all over the studio floor. He gently pulled Zac’s phone from his hands. It troubled him that he didn’t resist, even a little. 

As Zac started curling into the fetal position, head on the armrest, Taylor made an executive decision. He sent Kate a quick text, almost identical to the one he sent Natalie, set Zac's phone to silent, and stacked it underneath his own for good measure. He couldn’t help but chuckle internally. _Who’s bottoming now?_

Laying down on the couch, Taylor stretched his long, lean body around his brother’s, making him the little spoon. He buried his head in the crook of his neck and stroked his increasingly-unruly pandemic hair.

“It’s just so fucked. All of it. This entire fucking year. Fuck 2020.” came the muffled comment from the arm of the couch.

Taylor heaved a deep, world-weary sigh. “Yeah, it is. We’ve just… gotta take it a step at a time, I guess.”

It SHOULDN’T feel like the right time for this, but Taylor couldn’t stop the blood pooling in his groin. It wasn’t long before Zac became aware of his brother’s hardening dick, poking into the small of his back. Even harder to ignore was Taylor's mouth as he started kissing Zac’s neck and fisting his hands more aggressively into his hair.

“Christ in a sidecar, Taylor, NOW?! Does the idea of losing our livelihood and our brand make you horny? You sick fuck.”

Taylor growled, biting down carefully on Zac’s ear. “So what if it does? You fucked up, Zac. Maybe I feel like you need to be taught a lesson. Maybe you need to feel a little… oppressed… really put yourself in other people’s shoes.”

Zac couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Fuck, don’t let anyone hear you say that. You’ll be the next one strung up in town square.”

Taylor unlatched his gorgeous lips from Zac’s neck to reply, just in time to make sure he didn’t leave a mark. “Please. You’ve always been the loose cannon in the group. I’m the gorgeous, perfect golden boy. Nobody would believe anything negative about me. Fuck, pictures of me sucking dick start showing up on message boards… and NOTHING. Our fans see what they want to see.”

Zac chuckled. “Yeah… not sure a masterful ‘reverse Photoshop’ job is going to get me out of this one. Have to hand it to that fixer, though… that was the perfect cover. Maybe we should call him on this one.”

Taylor growled, biting into Zac’s shoulder, running his hands down to start undoing Zac’s belt. “Yeah, but you've got to learn from your mistakes. I got better about not sucking the cocks of random guys with cameras. Got better at sucking cock, too.”

“No need to tell me.”

Taylor felt something inside him snap, as his annoyance and fear overtook his earlier feeling of relief. “Shut up. Like you should’ve shut up on Insta. Not another fucking word.” In one fluid motion, Taylor ripped Zac’s jeans and boxers down and flipped him onto his stomach, perching himself on the backs of Zac’s thighs, hands gripping his brother’s perfect ass.

“Tay—”

“NOT.” _*smack*_ “ANOTHER.” _*smack*_ “FUCKING” _*smack*_ “WORD.” _*smack*_ “ZACHARY.” 

Zac clamped his mouth shut, twisted his neck backward, and warily met his brother’s eyes, glutes stinging mildly from the open-handed slaps. So it was going to be older-brother-shaming-little-brother today. Whatever, he felt like he’d earned it. Maybe even needed it.

Taylor’s flinty eyes bore holes into Zac’s, taking in how uncomfortable he must be with his neck craned that way and his body squished into the couch under their combined weight. Good. He needed to start feeling a bit more uncomfortable. But still, Taylor asked in a low voice, “You good? Okay with this?”

Zac opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it closed at the warning look in Taylor’s eyes. Right. He just enthusiastically nodded his consent, hoping the pleading look he put into his eyes conveyed just HOW okay with this he was.

“Good.”

With that he pulled Zac’s cheeks apart and dove in, licking his hole, dragging his fingernails raggedly down Zac’s back and butt. Zac let out a long moan. “Fu—”

_*smack*_

“NOT. ANOTHER. WORD. You need to practice just shutting up and taking it.”

Zac couldn’t help snarking, “Moans aren’t wor—”

_*smack*_

The slaps weren’t meant to seriously hurt him, but they still stung. Zac threw his brother a look that silently screamed, _FIIIIIINE…_ which morphed back into that pleading look, despite the infuriating self-satisfied smirk on Taylor’s face.

Apparently mollified, Taylor got back to eating out Zac’s ass, plunging his tongue into that perfect rosebud, silently wondering to himself how Zac always seemed perfectly prepped for him no matter what. He chuckled to himself as he realized that all the high-fiber protein bars and baby wipes around Zac’s house (despite all his kids being well out of diapers) made a bit more sense.

“Jesus Zac, are you just DTF constantly? Did you come here all enraged just hoping I’d fuck your stupid, impulsive, ignorant brains out for being such a MASSIVE screw-up with all this?”

Zac smirked into the arm of the couch but didn’t respond. Taylor’s self-satisfaction ratcheted up a notch, noting the lack of reply.

Dragging his fingers down Zac’s crack ever so slowly, lightly, tantalizingly, Taylor couldn’t help being a bit of an asshole. Without warning, he shoved one of his graceful fingers in to the second knuckle. “You won’t be able to walk for a week when I’m through with you.” Lucky for him, Zac managed to keep the resulting moan wordless.

While working that finger in and out, thrusting, deepening, adding another, Taylor gripped Zac’s hips and coaxed him into a kneel; all the better to access that ass. He dragged his other hand around Zac’s hip, closing it on his rock-hard dick, squeezing just once before fishing in his own pocket for an ever-present rubber. 

Walking sex machine that he was, Taylor cared about his various lovers too much to put them at risk… and loved his net worth too much to have yet another (albeit adorable) mouth to feed. Especially now that his decades-long career was about to go to hell in a handbasket thanks to the hothead brother currently writhing beneath him. 

Zac was really getting into it, pushing back against Taylor’s hand, desperately fucking his fingers at a rapidly increasing pace. He whined at the brief contact with his aching cock. _What a needy bitch,_ Taylor couldn’t help thinking. Ignoring Zac’s noise of protest as he withdrew his fingers, he shoved his own skin-tight jeans down as quickly as he could, rolled the lubed condom down his own fully erect member, and ruthlessly, almost angrily, plunged into Zac’s body right to the hilt.

Zac couldn’t help letting out some sort of sound… like a roar made of pleasure, anguish, and want in equal measure. But he didn’t say a word as Taylor picked up a brutal pace, rapidly sliding out and slamming back into him.

Taylor chuckled, punctuating his words with his thrusts. “You fucking idiot. Why can’t you be THIS submissive on socials? Just… ugh… do as you’re told… toe the FUCKING… mmph… company line, and maybe just, for ONCE in your life, SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP. AND. LISTEN.”

Without warning Taylor grabbed Zac’s dick, freely leaking at this point. He swirled the precome with his thumb, sliding it down the shaft in a fluid, practiced movement, lubing it up before matching his thrusts. This wasn’t going to last long… unlike those fucking screenshots. 

Almost as if Zac could read his mind (maybe he could, at this point?), he could feel his brother’s balls tightening. With the sort of energy usually reserved for jumping around onstage, Taylor pulled out, pushed Zac to sitting, kneeled in front of him and swallowed his dick down in one go. No sense messing up the couch… who knew if studio decorations might one day include a blacklight? 

_At least *I* try to avoid exposing our fucked-up, life-ruining secrets…_ Taylor couldn’t help thinking wryly as he swallowed down every drop Zac had to give. Pushing that thought aside, fixing his gaze on the very sexy, stubborn, sweaty, blissed-out orgasm face above him, Taylor moaned around Zac’s softening cock and finished himself off with his own hand.

Moving quickly, Taylor stood, tucked his still-wrapped dick back into his pants, tidied his clothes, and wiped his mouth on his arm. Zac was still completely undone, just panting and gazing up at him from the couch. Taylor chuckled wryly and shot Zac a warning look before walking towards the door to leave, tossing one last comment behind him:

“You’d better smarten the fuck up, Zac, or our only source of income will doing this on a livestream for the high-paying Zaylor crazies.”

**Author's Note:**

> Between my exhaustion as a mom of 3, an essential healthcare worker during a global pandemic, a flawed closeted queer hetero-presenting cis white woman trying to confront her implicit biases and be an ally to POC, J.K. Rowling’s TERFiness, and now Zac and r/posthanson (or Hansongate, or Pinterestgate… choose your preferred label)… I just can’t anymore. It was like a perfect storm, which swirled and congealed into this one-shot. Love it, hate it, whatever… it’s out in the world now, and all I can do is the next right thing in my own life (even if that means disowning the creators of my life's soundtrack). Concrit welcome; comments are being moderated. Debates on the ongoing real-life clusterfuck will be pointedly ignored (and I reserve the right to disable comments as soon as they interfere with my life). -Honeybee


End file.
